


New  Beginnings

by Natashasolten



Series: Pennsylvania Series [2]
Category: Wiseguy
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Slash, Story #2 - Pennsylvania Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natashasolten/pseuds/Natashasolten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An immediate sequel to my fic "I Know You Really Love Me."  Sonny settles in with Vinnie only to realize, much to his horror, that Frank McPike makes once-a-week visits...and that's not going to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New  Beginnings

(sequel to: I KNOW YOU REALLY LOVE ME)

 

It was like coming home.

They just fit. Natural as breathing. As always. And as always, as they kissed and moved together, a kind of wild passion took over. The kind that had, at first, filled their nights in that last month together back in Atlantic City when every evening they had made love, dozed, woke, made love again, following that dreamy urgent pattern all night long.

Sonny thought: How could I ever have forgotten this? How could I have lived without it?

Mirroring each other, their mouths moved, opened, devoured each other, and there was not enough oxygen in the room anymore, or in the whole world. Vinnie’s hands were all over Sonny’s back, stroking, almost clawing, pulling his thin sweatshirt up, rumpling it about his neck.

Sonny rose just long enough to shuck it, then moved over Vinnie again, kissing him and kissing him. He felt very hot, and painfully aroused. Only Vinnie could do this to him so hard, so fast. Only Vinnie.

Sonny moved to straddle him, grabbing Vinnie’s white tank and yanking it over his head. He buried his head in Vinnie’s chest, kissing, nipping, rubbing his cheek against the small “v” of soft black hair in the center. Vinnie sighed a small contented noise. Vinnie smelled wonderful, clean, almost soapy, with a hint of salty sweaty arousal all over his smooth, perfect skin.

Sonny lifted his head. In the dim light, Vinnie was looking at him. Sonny raised one hand, pushed Vinnie’s thick, soft hair back from his forehead, said, “Okay, I’ll stay.” He gasped as Vinnie pushed up, flipping him over until Vinnie was straddling him now. Sonny added, looking up at him, “But I’m paying you rent.”

“Shut up.” Vinnie kissed him hard. He lifted up, one hand stroking Sonny’s cheek. Sonny ran his hands down Vinnie’s back, down, down until he was pushing past the waistband of Vinnie’s shorts, until he cupped that slim ass, pulling Vinnie close. Touching Vinnie like this made him even crazier.

Vinnie was kissing his jaw, his neck, his chest. Sonny pushed harder against Vinnie’s shorts until they rumpled down around his knees. Kneeling, Vinnie tore them away, then grabbed Sonny’s, pulling them off with a sharp tug. They fell together, rubbing, thrusting. It was impossibly exciting. Nothing had ever felt so good to Sonny than Vinnie pushing against him so hard, needing him, wanting him. If anything, the biggest turn on ever in his life was the fact that Vinnie wanted him. That feeling filled him up to overflowing, made him feel whole, fiery, more powerful than if he owned all of Atlantic City and New York City combined.

It had been eight long months and a few days. Sonny didn’t have to ask. He knew Vinnie well, so he knew he had been with no one since they’d parted, since Sonny had gone to prison. And Sonny had not had any chance to find someone else…and a liaison in prison with another man had been out of the question. He would’ve died first before letting anything like that happen. So they were only barely controlled right now. They were so hungry for each other. After all those months, a little bit of friction went a long way.

Sonny gasped as Vinnie reached between them, grabbing him, stroking. He cried out, arched his back and came. If it hadn’t been Vinnie, if they didn’t have a history and know each other so well, he might have been embarrassed to come so fast. As it was, Vinnie seemed entirely delighted, nuzzling him at the neck, kissing him just under the ear. Sonny clutched him hard, sucking in air furiously, hissing, “Son of a bitch!”

Vinnie was kissing him again, thrusting against him. Sonny pushed his hand down but before he could touch him he felt Vinnie’s rock-hard cock pulse against his stomach, heard him groan, then pulse again. Again. Vinnie was breathing hard against his chest now, making a sound that was almost like laughing. No. It was laughing. Vinnie was laughing.

Sonny tightened his arms around him, then started laughing himself. The two of them. What a pair they made.

Finally, Vinnie said softly, still chuckling, “Are we hopelessly pathetic, or what?”

Sonny ran his hand down the side of Vinnie’s hip, feeling the heat of the skin there. Pathetic? he thought. Anything but.

Sonny sighed. Then rocked his head forward and kissed him again. They didn’t stop for a long time.

Later, Sonny lay back lethargically, hot, slick, aroused, while Vinnie gently rocked inside him building up to more. He loved the feel of Vinnie, he loved wrapping his legs around Vinnie’s waist, loved being fucked. In all his life he’d never ever fantasized about another man fucking him. Never. And he would never have imagined he would like it. Until Vinnie came along. And even then, the first time he’d decided to allow Vinnie to go for it, decided he wanted to find out once and for all if he might like it, he’d actually been somewhat afraid. He didn’t say anything but somehow Vinnie knew. Vinnie always knew when he was afraid. Or unsure. So Vinnie had taken his time, touching him everywhere, saying little forgettable, nothing-type words that made Sonny smile, made him feel like he was coming apart. In fact, Vinnie had been very gentle, and after awhile too gentle as he pushed slowly into him, until Sonny grabbed him, pulled him close, pushed up. He wanted Vinnie more than he’d ever wanted anyone. He wanted to feel him. And when he demanded “harder” and Vinnie gave it, he nearly passed out with the unexpected pleasure of it, the special place inside him stimulated for the first time almost beyond endurance.

He realized then that only he and Vinnie could fit together so well, so perfectly. Nothing, not even his first time with a beautiful girl, or the expertly practiced technique of a highly paid call girl, had ever felt so good.

No, it was Vinnie. All Vinnie. That was what did it. There was no way he could deny he loved the guy more than he’d ever loved anything or anyone.

That was why the betrayal had been so hard. It still made his throat tight to think of it. And what Vinnie had gone through…. He wasn’t without empathy now. Vinnie had gone stark raving nuts. He’d found himself cornered. Sonny knew that. And Vinnie had not known what to do. He’d set things up so Sonny’s fall would be soft, so Sonny would be the victim. Sonny understood that now. But it still all hurt. They had slept together right up until the end, and Vinnie had never said a word about any confusion, anguish, all that pain he must’ve been enduring.

Vinnie started to move deeper and faster now. Sonny panted, threw his head back on the pillow and groaned. One of Vinnie’s hands was on his shoulder, the other at the side of his head. Vinnie leaned down and kissed him deep as he thrust. Sonny’s mind spun into a glittery mist.

With Vinnie in his arms, his mind whispered: There is nothing I cannot do.

And it just got better. Vinnie slick and moving faster. Sonny’s body responding to the tight, hot thrusts with a burning ecstasy that built and built. And Vinnie so beautiful, so flushed, his black hair hanging in his eyes making him look so rakish, almost heroic.

Vinnie’s hand moved down from his shoulder, down to Sonny’s hard cock and began to stroke him with an instinctive pressure and pace that only someone who loved him could really know how to do and do so right. That firm hand, that knowing grip.

It seemed like even if you’d done this dozens, hundreds, thousands of times it was always a deep and wonderful surprise when the orgasm came, like something new, something that renewed itself over and over, especially when it was with someone you were in love with.

Vinnie timed it perfectly, coming in a rush of heat, calling out wordlessly. Sonny arched up, yelled his name twice, and came against his hand, pressing up. They grabbed each other hard about the shoulders and waist. Vinnie fell against him, nearly spent, still quivering, still hard inside him. They held on like that for a long time until finally, grudgingly, they moved apart.

Sonny reached up, stroking down Vinnie’s cheek, kissing him. Vinnie said softly, as Sonny turned away for more air, “It killed me when I thought I’d never make love to you again.”

Pain flitted through his stomach at those words, but Sonny ignored it, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re such a sap.”

Vinnie grinned. “I don’t see you hurrying to push me out of bed.”

Sonny shrugged. “It’s your bed.” Then he kissed him again, mouth open, seeking. He felt Vinnie’s hand stroke softly over his hip, up, then down again. It was then he realized he’d been thoroughly, completely loved.

For eight months he’d lived in a kind of limbo, a foggy nether land of frozen nothingness, a deliberate world of blank paleness where he could allow himself to feel only the most static of emotions so he would not have to suffer any pain, any unfulfilled passion, any uncontrollable desire for the one person in all the world he truly loved, the one person who had so deeply betrayed him.

Now that door had closed. The frozen landscape had disappeared. Vinnie was back in his arms.

He realized he’d literally been the walking dead. For all those months, he’d barely breathed. He wondered if his heart had actually beat at all. But it had been the only way. The only way he could muster the ability to survive.

He had been told by one medical doctor and one shrink that he’d tried to kill himself. While he did not remember the incident and probably, they said, never would, he understood now that his pain had been that powerful, that overwhelming, and the only way for him to survive it was to live in that land of zombie-like denial, the place of flatline response, an arena of no forgiveness. Bitterness made him hard and strong. He had needed that for those eight months. But he didn’t need it now.

He fell asleep with his head sharing Vinnie’s pillow, Vinnie’s shoulder and arm curved under his chest, his own arm draped across Vinnie’s waist. It was the best sleep he’d had in ages.

*

Vinnie no longer worked undercover, so there was no “cover” to maintain. It was Sonny who was the one who needed to watch his back now. Sonny who needed to stay far away from any mob connections or old friends as long as he was living with Vinnie, living now with a Federal agent.

This meant that, other than neighborhood acquaintances, the people in Vinnie’s life were cops. And Sonny would be running into them. Not only that, these cops would know who Sonny was. It would be awkward. It would be a nightmare. So before anything was discussed about their living “arrangement,” Sonny knew well in advance there would be no dinners “out” with friends, no company picnics, no catered Christmas parties at the home of the regional director.

What he did not know, however, was that one or two of Vinnie’s friends might sometimes stop by Vinnie’s house. And he had no idea that one of those friends came by every Saturday, and that that friend’s name was Frank McPike.

Two mornings after Sonny had moved in, Vinnie came out of the shower announcing that Frank was coming to visit that afternoon.

Sonny just looked at him like he’d spoken another language.

Even when Vinnie explained to him that Frank came by every week to check on him, make sure he was okay, and that Frank had been the one true friend to stand by Vinnie during the difficult weeks after Sonny’s injury and incarceration, Sonny was not amenable.

At breakfast, Sonny nearly glowered. Finally, swallowing a bite of toast, Sonny said, “I can’t tell you who you can invite over, but I hate that guy, Vinnie.”

Vinnie said, shrugging, “He never liked you much, either.”

“I think I’ll go to a movie or something.”

Vinnie looked a little hurt for a second, then the reaction was gone. He just nodded, saying, “You can do whatever you want, Sonny.”

“Does he know about all this? About us?”

Vinnie frowned. “Well…yeah. Of course he does. I was demoted, Sonny. The people involved with that know why. Remember? I hired a lawyer.”

Sonny glanced quickly away. “Does he know I’m here?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he say anything about it?”

“Yeah.”

Sonny waited.

Vinnie fidgeted. Finally he spoke. “He said maybe he should stop coming over now. That he was sure I’d be okay now that I’m not alone anymore.” Vinnie took a heavy breath. “But I begged him not to stop coming, Sonny. He’s the only one who really stood by me. I don’t want to lose another friend.”

Sonny tried to clamp down on the thought of how much he himself had lost in the past year and concentrate on what Vinnie had lost. He met Vinnie’s melting blue eyes, and said, “No, you shouldn’t lose anymore friends. It’s not right.”

Vinnie blinked at him. Waiting.

Sonny sighed. “Maybe I’ll stick around. I mean, if you serve any snacks you’ll need someone to do the dishes.”

Vinnie frowned. Got that hurt look again. So Sonny turned on the charm and smiled lightly at him. “It was a joke, you crazy fuck. Hell, maybe we can all watch the game together, right?” He laughed, trying to wipe that “look” off Vinnie’s face.

Vinnie shot him a half-smile. “You’re a real riot, Sonny.”

*

Vinnie had picked up Sonny on Thursday. His usual days off were Thursday thru Saturday. But he had opted to take a week’s vacation, too, so they had ten days to settle in to living together.

It was pretty easy, actually.

Friday night, Sonny had taken Vinnie out for a steak dinner since he actually had money now. And they talked about Sonny buying a car. Vinnie got a little excited over that. Unlike almost everyone else on Earth, Sonny knew Vinnie enjoyed car shopping. In fact, Vinnie liked cars, period. He thought he might even let Vinnie pick one out for him. It was a sensible thought, actually, because Sonny knew he himself would probably go for something way too flashy, and he kept having to remind himself he wasn’t trying to bring attention to either of them anymore. So he figured Vinnie would probably pick something just right.

But now the visit from Frank McPike was looming. Vinnie was tidying up the already tidy place. In fact, Sonny marveled at how well kept up the place was. The lawns, back and front, were neatly trimmed (Vinnie had told him he did it himself) and even the windows on the house looked freshly washed. Sonny had never known Vinnie to be a slob, but he’d never seen him in any kind of a cleaning frenzy, either. Vinnie was not lazy, and any job Sonny’d ever given him to do Vinnie had done better than anyone else in the history of the Steelgrave organization, but still he found himself wanting to say to him, “Lighten up a little.” But he said nothing.

Vinnie had a little bit of a fit when he opened the fridge and saw they were low on beer. “Frank likes beer,” he said. “We always have beer. I have to go to the store.”

Sonny’s eyes flicked to his Rolex and saw that Frank was due to arrive in about half an hour. Something like a sharp panic -- it couldn’t be panic, could it? -- stabbed in his gut. There was no way Vinnie was going to leave him alone in the house to greet that asshole when he arrived. No way!

“I’ll swing by the store.” Sonny had noticed a gas station and market about a mile away when he and Vinnie had first arrived.

“Yeah?”

“Sure.” Sonny shrugged.

“You still remember how to drive?”

Sonny made a sour face at him, said, “I still have my license. It’s one thing I didn’t lose.”

“Yeah, okay.” Vinnie hesitated. “There’s a market on Pine….”

“I know where to go. I’ll find it,” Sonny interrupted.

“Get Bud.”

“I hate Bud. How ‘bout Heineken?”

Vinnie frowned for a moment. “That’s fine.”

“I’ll get some wine, too.”

Now Vinnie looked even more perplexed.

Sonny just looked at him, rolling his eyes. “For later, smart guy.” He punched him lightly on the arm.

As he drew his arm back and started to turn away, Vinnie grabbed him. “Later, eh?”

Sonny turned back around as Vinnie pulled him close and kissed him. Sonny grabbed him back. Damn if there wasn’t anything better than kissing Vinnie, who always tasted slightly of mint gum and coffee and donuts. Damn cops. But he sure tasted good. He thought he might be able to keep kissing him for hours, days, even, and never grow bored. Now they stood there in the kitchen by the fridge, bodies locked, and Sonny started thinking about either pushing Vinnie up against the counter, or pulling him down to the floor. Either way would’ve been fine by him, but Vinnie reluctantly pulled away. His face was flushed, his blue eyes dancing, as he said, “Beer, remember?”

“Yeah. Fuck,” was all Sonny said, trying to ignore the erection that now pressed against his jeans.

*

Sonny had asked Vinnie what he and Frank did every week. Vinnie had replied, “Talk. Sometimes we’ll go to a movie or out to eat. Sometimes we watch a game. We just hang out. He’s a good friend to me, Sonny. He ‘gets’ what I went through. No one else does.”

Except me, Sonny had thought. I get it.

Now he drove Vinnie’s car back into the driveway and parked it next to McPike’s. He sat very still for a moment, dreading going into that house. Then he took a breath, undid his seatbelt, and got out. He went to the trunk, opened it and surveyed it. There were no dead bodies…that was long in the past. Now there were only bags of groceries, beer and other things he’d decided to buy on impulse. It would take him at least three trips to unload it all.

Grabbing some of the beer and two plastic grocery bags, Sonny moved slowly up the small path to the front door. He had a strange feeling that he wanted to knock before going in, but he lived here now, dammit. Laden with stuff, he flipped the knob, kicked the door open and walked in.

Well, he wasn’t going hide. And he was never fond of playing games. So he just looked over to the living room, saw Vinnie slouched on the couch with his legs on the coffee table, and Frank McPike sitting in an easy chair just to the right of the couch. He stood for a moment, surveying the room, then said, “Frank McPike. Long time no see.”

Frank moved not one muscle as he drawled, “Well, hell, Steelgrave. Never thought I’d see you again.”

Sonny smirked, then went off to the kitchen to unload his parcels. He put the beer in the fridge and the other things away. When he came back out, Vinnie turned his head toward him. “Wanna come sit down?”

Sonny shook his head. “I got more stuff in the car.”

“Want some help?”

“Nope.”

Sonny got the rest of the stuff on the second trip. In the kitchen he took his time putting it all away. He could hear murmurs from the living room, but nothing coherent. Part of him wanted to go out there, plop down next to Vinnie and make it obvious, stake his claim. He wanted to look Frank McPike straight in the eye and force him to turn away first. He wanted to challenge him, dare him, threaten him. But another part of him wanted to just steer clear, let Vinnie have his visit. Who cared who Vinnie invited over? Sonny had his own room, he could go in there, shut the door, take a nap, whatever. Vinnie had a life apart from the house, apart from Sonny. That was the way of it. And so could Sonny.

But in truth, Sonny had nothing to do right now. And nowhere to go. And no life apart from Vinnie. He felt oddly bereft. And he did not like that feeling one bit.

He glanced around, saw a Stephen King novel sitting on the kitchen counter, picked it up and sat down at the dining room table and started reading. He got about two pages into it before his mind wouldn’t let him concentrate at all.

He kept remembering one visit from Vinnie while he was in prison. Somehow McPike’s name had come up that day. He couldn’t recall the context, but he remembered scowling or making some noise of disgust. And suddenly Vinnie had gotten a little pissed. He had said, “I get that you don’t like him, okay? But I think maybe someone needs to tell you…maybe I need to tell you that Frank helped me save your life that day.”

Sonny had frowned, sputtering. “Yeah, right.”

Vinnie said, “His quick thinking…he’s the one who ran and turned off the power. He helped me do CPR on you, dammit! Without him I woulda lost you.”

Sonny had been taken completely off guard. And for reasons he could not understand, Vinnie’s words made him mad. He told himself at first that Vinnie was lying. He knew Vinnie was NOT lying, but it made him feel better to think he was. Because it really bugged him that he could not remember anything that happened to him after he heard guys pounding something heavy against the Rialto’s doors. His next memory was waking to noise and chaos in Vinnie’s arms and not being able to move a single muscle. He had no clue what had happened to him. There was at least five minutes gone, wiped forever from his life. But he could not deny what the shrink had told him. Hell, Vinnie had witnessed it. McPike had witnessed it. And apparently a few other cops had been standing in the doorway when he’d done it. When he’d apparently dodged them all and grabbed the live electrical conduit. When he tried to kill himself.

Over and over, in the past months, he had thought to himself: How could I be such a moron?

Of course he’d felt desperate, enraged, betrayed. Of course he was facing huge criminal charges. But wanting to die? He could not remember ever feeling that way before. Not ever. Not even when he realized Vinnie was a cop. Not even when they were fighting. For him the incident of the suicide attempt was a blank and always would be.

Concentrating on the book proved to be a challenge, but he finally got through the third page.

That was when Vinnie came into the kitchen. He was wearing his black jeans and a white, long-sleeved pullover shirt. He looked fantastic. Quickly, Sonny looked away.

“You don’t have to be a stranger,” Vinnie said.

Sonny waved his hand at him, staring hard at his book. “Nah, you go ahead and have your visit. I’m really getting into this book here.”

Vinnie went to the fridge to grab some beers. Now Sonny watched him. He said quietly, “I put some in the freezer to chill faster.”

Vinnie opened the freezer and took them. “Thanks.” Then he walked right over to Sonny, setting the beers on the table. He put one arm across Sonny’s shoulders, leaned down and kissed him on the side of the head. Then he straightened up, grabbed the beers and walked out.

It took about ten seconds before Sonny remembered to breathe. Stephen King was all but forgotten.

*

It took a good part of an hour for Sonny to decide what he wanted to do. A full frontal assault. That was the way he liked things. Face to face. Under his control.

Frank McPike was going to be visiting once a week. He couldn’t avoid him forever.

Finally, he got up from the chair and went to the fridge. He grabbed a beer and wandered nonchalantly into the living room.

Both Vinnie and McPike looked up as he entered.

He could see Vinnie suppressing a big smile as Sonny casually sat down at the far end of the couch. Frank was more contemplative.

Sonny said abruptly, holding McPike’s steady gaze, “You don’t have to tell me you’re not overly happy about seeing me here.” He rested his beer bottle against his blue jeaned thigh.

Frank said, without inflection, “Well, Steelgrave, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

Sonny tried to keep the confusion from his face as he waited for Frank to elaborate.

Frank leaned forward and grabbed his beer from the table. He took a swig, held onto the bottle. “Good stuff,” he said. He sighed, glancing at Vinnie, then back at Sonny. “For eight months this man here, who is my very good friend, has never once smiled in my presence. Today I don’t think he’s stopped. That’s something.” And he held his beer up as if in a kind of salute, and drank some more.

Sonny glanced at Vinnie who looked all of a sudden flushed. Sonny did not quite know what to make of all of this. He’d come in ready for a clever conversation filled with spiteful innuendo and wit. He’d come in prepared for tension. Instead, here were just a couple of friends having a couple of beers, and one of them just happened to be the guy who had wanted Sonny Steelgrave’s head stuffed and mounted and put on a wall of accomplishments, and the other just happened to be that project’s undercover operative who’d in turn become Sonny Steelgrave’s unbelievably passionate, unrelenting lover.

If that wasn’t insane, then nothing was. And Sonny thought maybe he should just start laughing hysterically, because really there was nothing else left to do.

So he chuckled, raised his beer, and said, “It’s a strange mad world, Mr. McPike.”

Frank gave him a wry, half-smile, brows narrowing. “That it is.”

Sonny had the bizarre impulse to actually thank Frank for remaining Vinnie’s friend throughout the past year, because he knew Vinnie had given up just about everything, including his own family. It made him grateful to know there had been one person Vinnie could trust on the outside while Sonny was doing time and getting to grips with his own dashed hopes, dreams, desires.

Luckily, however, the impulse faded. He kept his mouth shut.

“How’s that book you were reading?” Vinnie casually asked, eying Sonny.

Sonny glared at him with a smile. “The Stephen King? He’s always great.”

“Yeah. What was the title again?”

Sonny smirked. “The Shining,” he said, although he knew that hadn’t been what he’d been reading in the kitchen. But The Shining had been one of the books that Vinnie had brought him while he’d been in prison, so he added, “You gave it to me, remember?”

Vinnie smirked back.

So Sonny said, to prove he’d read it (what, Vinnie didn’t think he could read?) “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Actually, though he had read The Shining in prison, it wasn’t his favorite. That description went to the last one he’d read: Misery. There was something about that book, taking apart a story in drafts, learning how an author actually wrote, that fascinated him. It appealed to the analytical part of him. Plus, it was just a damn good scary story.

Sonny was starting to feel like he should say something more. It felt weird, almost wrong, to be sitting here on a Saturday afternoon drinking beer with Vinnie and Frank, and neither of them had a gun in his gut or handcuffs poised to “take him in.” And yet he could not deny that the strange ordinariness of the situation wasn’t slightly peaceful. He had so loved the rough and tumble city life, his fast paced days filled with dark excitements, odd battles he usually won, and all that money just flowing around and through the decadent edges of his glittery world day in, day out. It felt like anything and everything could be his at a whim, a word. And yet…. And yet.

Did he miss it? The casino, maybe. It had a strange, alluring glamour. The pulse of its power was pure Steelgrave. Yeah, he missed it.

He glanced at Vinnie who had always seemed immune to such things, and yet had also seemed to have had such a good time back when they ran that city, when everyone was growing more and more afraid of the new team, the duo who was storming Atlantic City and gaining a new respect which threatened Patrice and, apparently, even Mahoney.

Vinnie was great. What good times those were. But Vinnie was not of that world. Not in his heart. And Sonny often wondered during the past eight months what had made Vinnie draw so close to him back then? What the hell, in either of their worlds, had made Vinnie want to love him?

That he had captured Vinnie, consciously or not, that he had managed to win him from that moral precipice on which Vinnie was perched constantly, surprised him. And now here he sat in an unobtrusive, quiet house away from the chaos, the city, the crime, away from silks and diamonds and piles of hundred dollar bills. Well, there was still a little bit of that leftover in his room, but really none of that existed here. None of the shadows and the sleaze and the garish edged light.

How had he fucking gotten here? A part of him felt resentful. Another part felt grateful. Which one would win?

He didn’t need an answer. One look at Vinnie. That guy stopped his heart. Vinnie would win. He always did.

Finally Vinnie started talking. Apparently, they’d been discussing a case Frank was involved in. It was actually interesting, but Vinnie got a homesick look on his face that Sonny didn’t like. So Sonny asked, “When’s Vinnie gonna finish his punishment and go back undercover?”

They both looked at him. “That’ll never happen,” Frank said.

Sonny eyed him. “Why not? Wasn’t he one of your best?”

Frank leaned forward, setting his empty beer bottle on the table. “Yeah. But the top brass would never reinstate him. Not in that area.”

“Well, he’s a fuckin’ genius. What a waste.”

Frank said, carefully, “I don’t disagree.”

Vinnie said quickly, to mask any discomfort, “Well maybe I don’t wanna go back.”

Sonny leaned his head back with a plop. “Yeah. Right.”

Vinnie sat forward. “Want another beer, Frank?”

“Sure.”

Sonny jumped up, needing to get away from them for a few seconds. “I’ll get it.”

Once in the kitchen, he leaned his forehead against the fridge for a moment before opening it. All of a sudden unbidden images came to him. It was not memory, but imagination. He tried to imagine Frank helping Vinnie bring him back to life. Pounding on him. Breathing for him. And all for what? So Vinnie could lose everything? So Sonny could lose everything? And through it all, no guarantees that they wouldn’t also have lost each other. Completely. Irrevocably. For good.

He tried not to think. He opened the fridge. The cool air bathed his suddenly hot face. As he reached for the beer, he heard footsteps enter the kitchen. He turned, seeing Frank walk to a cupboard, open it, take out a glass and run it under the tap. McPike turned, leaned back against the edge of the sink, and drank. Then he looked directly at Sonny who still stood frozen by the cool, open fridge.

Frank stopped drinking, said, “Vince is exactly where he wants to be now. Are you?”

Sonny knew – had even known somewhere deep inside while he’d done his time – that if he had it to do all over again he’d give it all up for Vinnie. Even if reluctantly. Always. Again. And again.

Sonny felt his eyes warm unpleasantly as he replied: “Only he ever gets to ask me that.”

Frank’s eyes wandered over to the table. Sonny followed his gaze. Saw the book sitting there. Read the title. Firestarter.

Frank set the glass down by the sink, then walked right up to Sonny real close. “I trust Vince.” He narrowed his eyes, staring straight into Sonny’s. “He must’ve seen something good in you.”

Sonny raised his chin. “I brake for cats.”

One side of McPike’s mouth rose in a half-smile. “Yeah. Who doesn’t?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“No. I wouldn’t.” It came out with a kind of hollowness. A kind of sigh.

Sonny handed Frank a beer from the fridge, then took out two more for him and Vinnie. They walked back into the living room together.

Sonny realized then that he and McPike did have one thing in common. They both loved Vincent Terranova.

*

Frank and Vinnie went to an early dinner. Sonny insisted they go without him, that he had stuff to do, plans. In fact, he didn’t, but he could not stomach right now, so freshly out of prison, having dinner with two cops. One was hard enough to handle.

Plus, these weren’t just any cops. They were the two cops whose job it had been to bring him down.

Fuck! It was easier just to not think!

He spent the two hours they were gone watching TV and drinking more beer. Later, he made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He’d missed peanut butter in prison. They had it in the kitchens, but it was just dried up godawful generic stuff. He’d bought the real thing at the store earlier that day.

When Vinnie came home alone, he had a white box in his hand. “I brought you lasagna.”

Sonny got up from the couch and took it, feeling a quiver of affection roll through him at Vinnie’s gesture. “I already ate, but thanks. I’ll have it later.” He moved into the kitchen and put it on a shelf in the fridge.

Vinnie followed. “Thank you for everything you did today.”

“I didn’t do nothin’.”

“Yeah you did. You went to the store. And you were polite and charming.”

“I’m always polite and charming.”

Vinnie grinned. “Yeah.”

Sonny looked into those blue eyes for a moment, feeling like there was nothing he wanted more, nowhere he’d rather be, but at the same time there was regret, regret, regret. Vinnie had given up perhaps even more than Sonny ever had. What Vinnie had given came from the heart. Sonny’s mob rule had been nothing but hard, fast play. It was dark, edgy, scary and soulless. But Vinnie had given up something he was born to do, something good, something that would have made the world a truly better place. That seemed just plain wrong.

“C’mere,” Sonny said quietly. Vinnie moved toward him and Sonny placed his hands on Vinnie’s shoulders and kissed him. It was meant to be affectionate, another thank you, but with them things always got deeper fast, sometimes even out of control, and suddenly they were pressed hard vying for domination over each other’s mouths.

Sonny backed up rapidly, grabbed Vinnie’s wrist, said, “C’mon.”

They barely made it up the stairs without falling. They were tossing their clothes everywhere. They fell into the bed in a tangle of limbs, pushing, shoving, rolling. Vinnie shoved Sonny down hard and started kissing and biting his way down Sonny’s chest. His mouth fell hot over Sonny’s cock and worlds were completely obliterated. This was Sonny’s other favorite thing that Vinnie did…and he did it so well.

Sonny tried to turn around, tried to grasp Vinnie’s hips. Finally, Vinnie obeyed and stretched out so Sonny had complete access to his body. Sonny grasped him. Things had not changed. Not one bit. Vinnie was just so perfect, so compelling, so hard for him. He moved his mouth over him and sucked down hard. Vinnie groaned and the noise combined with the motions of his mouth made Sonny come hard. It lasted a long time, that ecstasy, and Vinnie kept on sucking even after he was calmer, keeping him hard for a few more minutes. Finally, Sonny could concentrate, and he returned the favor while Vinnie let go, rolled onto his back and groaned like big cat starting to purr. Vinnie thrashed after a few moments, reached down and gently grabbed the sides of Sonny’s head, then said his name in such a rapturous tone that Sonny started to get hard again.

When he came, his hips lifted off the mattress. Sonny grabbed him and held on until Vinnie was spent. Then he crawled over to him and perched half on top of his chest. He looked into those fathomless blue eyes and said, “I’m not done with you,” and kissed him. Vinnie’s arms came up and around him.

After awhile, Sonny pulled back. He looked at him again, just gazing. It was one of his favorite things to do, gaze at Vinnie. Especially after really good bedroom antics. Vinnie stared back, a small smile curving his lips.

Sonny stroked his shoulders, then clasped them gently but firmly to keep his attention. “You wanna go back, don’t you?”

The smile left Vinnie’s face and his eyes darted away. “What?”

Sonny pressed his chest to Vinnie’s, letting more of his weight push down. “Shhh. Just tell me. I can see it in you. Your work. Everything you did. What you’re trained for. It’s such a goddamn waste.”

Vinnie shook his head, eyes hard now. “I don’t want that anymore. I told you!”

“You’re lying.” Sonny moved his head closer until he was almost kissing him, whispered, “Vincenzo, don’t lie to me.”

A renewed energy lit Vinnie’s eyes. “What about you, Sonny?”

Sonny ignored the question, brushed his lips lightly across Vinnie’s. Vinnie’s body tensed, then relaxed. He kissed back lightly, then turned his head. “You miss the casino, I know that. The money. The glamour. The thrills. There’s nothing like that here.”

“That’s not true, Vinnie. It’s just a different kind of thrill, that’s all. And you made sure I got money.” He paused. “But yeah, I do miss it.”

Vinnie bit down on his lower lip the way he did when he was considering something. Then he simply shrugged, saying, “Well, anyway, there’s no going back. For either of us.”

“Yeah, but we can go forward.”

Vinnie frowned. “Aren’t we?”

Sonny kissed his forehead, wiping away the frown, then said, “I’ve been thinking.”

Vinnie started to chuckle. “Uh oh.”

Sonny smacked him lightly in the side. “Stop that!”

“Okay, okay, I’m listening.”

“That desk job. It’s not right. It’s not who you are. Let’s go into business together. You and me. We got the start up money. We can do whatever you want.”

Vinnie just stared at him, eyes wide.

Sonny kissed him on the cheek, leaned toward his ear and said, knowing this was the last part of himself Vinnie had been fighting to keep intact, “But first, baby, you gotta quit your job.”

When Sonny lifted up to look down at him, Vinnie’s eyes were tightly shut. He continued. “It’s killing you that you can’t do what you were made to do. Vinnie, you stopped being a cop the moment you tore up that video tape.”

Vinnie took a shuddery breath, nodded, but kept his eyes closed.

“You just said neither of us can go back. So we’re gonna go forward. You and me. We’re always good together. We’re a great team, right? There’s nothing we can’t do together, Vinnie. Nothing.”

Finally Vinnie’s eyes opened. They were full and glistening. Sonny said, “If we’re gonna survive together at all, we have to go forward. Together. Right?”

Still speechless, Vinnie nodded again.

“Equal partners. You won’t be working for me, I won’t be dependent on you. Full equals.” His hand stroked down Vinnie’s face. Still, Vinnie said nothing.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

Vinnie’s bottom lip disappeared again. His eyes searched Sonny’s. Finally, he took a shuddery breath, said, “Who do I gotta kill this time?”

Sonny started laughing. “No one, Terranova. Never again!” And he kissed him hard until Vinnie began to squirm, then sputter, then laugh.

That was all Sonny had ever wanted.

*

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work by Natasha Solten, you may also enjoy her m/m romances on Kindle under her non-fanfic name: Wendy Rathbone. Look for "The Foundling," "The Secret Sharer" and the soon to be released "None Can Hold the Dark" (due in fall 2013.) She also has an sf novel out, and a collection of poetry.


End file.
